


The Barnes

by JSounds2 (Jsounds)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Character Death, Crushes, Cute, Gay, Gay Character, Grief/Mourning, LGBTQ Themes, Love, Marvel Universe, Original Character(s), Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rewrite, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28914846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jsounds/pseuds/JSounds2
Summary: Steve's mother dies and he must struggle with his sexuality in the hostile 40's. Meanwhile, Bucky has to battle a gang of arsons with the help of his brothers.
Kudos: 1





	The Barnes

Footsteps rushed down a hospital corridor as a young man raced through, reading the signs with a worried expression on his face. He wore a police uniform - consisting of a dark blue button down shirt, a black tie and a pair of black pants. He has dark brown hair, a muscular build and a clean shaven face that showed off his defined jawline. Finally, he burst through one of the doors and came into a quiet waiting room. There were a few people there, that late afternoon and as the young policeman scanned the chairs, he found who he was looking for. A short, skinny, blond boy was sitting in the corner - his face soaked in tears. He was wearing a baggy white shirt and a pair of brown pants. The cop quickly went over, timidly.  
"Steve, I'm so sorry." He whispered, catching the attention of the motionless Steve.   
"Bucky..." He croaked, puffy eyes looking up at him. Bucky sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around the thin boy. "Tuberculosis..." Steve whispered.   
"I know how much she meant to you." Bucky said, giving his friend a hug.   
"First Dad... Now Mom..." Steve shuddered, leaning into Bucky's chest.   
"C'mon, buddy. Let's get you home." Bucky said, standing up.   
"C-Can I stay with you tonight?" Steve sniffled.  
"I said home, didn't I? My home is your home." Bucky smiled. Steve weakly smiled back as he stood up too and followed his friend out of the hospital. 

The door to Bucky's apartment opened and in came the two best friends, sombrely coming inside. Bucky flicked on the light, illuminating the large apartment. The windows at the back showed the night sky, with the orange glow of the street lights below. The living room was modest, with a simple black couch facing a small tv and a coffee table with newspapers splayed across it. The other half of the room was the kitchen - walled off by a counter.   
"You can sleep in my room, tonight, okay? I'll sleep on the couch." Bucky told Steve.  
"But... But you've got work tomorrow." Steve mumbled, face wet in tears.  
"I'll be fine, Steve." Bucky insisted as Steve sat on the sofa. "I'll make you some hot chocolate." He said, going into the kitchen. Steve's glassy eyes looked aimlessly at the blank tv, realising how alone he was now. He was wearing a pale, button down shirt and a pair of brown, baggy pants which had tear stains from the car journey. Steve lost his father in the first war, who he had looked up to ever since. And now his mother, the only woman he felt safe and comfortable around, was gone. As Bucky waited for the milk to bubble in the pan. He took off his tie and undid a couple buttons, quietly wondering what he could do with Steve. He cared for Steve, so much. They met when they were just kids and were friends ever since. Bucky lost his parents years ago, but he was able to get a job quickly in the police force. Steve, on the other hand, was from a poor upbringing and unemployed. Bucky finished making the hot chocolate before coming over and setting the mug down on the coffee table.   
"Y'know what my mother used to tell me? 'Whatever you dream, you can be, but you're gonna have to fight for it.' She said it to me again before she... before she died." Steve said, shakily. He'd probably be crying if he had any more tears left.  
"She was a wise woman." Bucky nodded.  
"I'm gonna miss her so much, Bucky." Steve shuddered.  
"I understand. I still miss my parents, to this day. But every day will get easier. I promise." Bucky assured him.   
"I've been asked to plan the funeral." Steve sighed, taking a sip from his hot cocoa.  
"I'll help you out." Bucky told him. "And listen... If you want to stay here while you find your feet, you can." He offered.  
"I'll manage, thanks." Steve said.   
"Well, if you ever do need help, don't be afraid to ask." Bucky smiled, sincerely. 

It took some time, but Steve finally drifted off to sleep in Bucky's bed. It was more comfier than Steve's one at home and it smelled of his best friend. The newly orphaned young man had a secret that nobody, not even his mother knew about. He was attracted to men, but most especially to Bucky. It was scary, though. People were killed for being queer and as much as Steve wanted to tell Bucky how he felt, he was afraid he'd lose his childhood best friend. The next morning, in the living room, Bucky was sleeping on the sofa - wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. He was sleeping pretty soundly, until one of the other bedroom doors opened. Bucky's younger brother Roy, only a year younger at 22, burst through. He's a boisterous, loud man who works down at the fire station. He was wearing a white tank top, then a pair of denim jeans. He's similar to Bucky, with his dark hair and buff body - except he's a bit taller than his older brother.   
"Bucky? What the hell are you doing, sleeping here?" Roy frowned as Bucky's eyes fluttered open.  
"Shhhh... Steve... He's in my room." Bucky mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.   
"What happened?" Roy asked, taking out some cereal and a bowl in the kitchen.   
"His mother passed away last night." Bucky answered, standing up and stretching, flexing his muscular physique.   
"Oh shit... You might wanna let Theo and Jimmy know." Roy warned Bucky, referring to their other two brothers.  
"Yeah, I will." Bucky nodded, lazily coming over to the kitchen.   
"How is he?" Roy asked, pouring the milk into his cereal.  
"He's doing better than I thought he'd be. We've gotta plan a funeral so... I might need to ask your help with that at some point." Bucky told him.  
"Of course." Roy nodded. "You got work today, right?"   
"Yeah..." Bucky nodded, looking back towards his bedroom door. "I'd rather stay here and look after him though." He sighed.  
"Don't stress, Jimmy is more than capable of looking after the little man." Roy reasoned before having a spoonful of his breakfast.  
"I hope so..." 

That morning, Bucky and Roy went their separate ways, one to the police station and the other to the fire station. Bucky was back to wearing his uniform as he parked up outside the station and headed inside. Inside was always bustling, people in uniform dashing in and out of rooms. Bucky was a simple cop, often just being sent places when needed. He came in and noticed there was a bit of panic on everybody's faces. Bucky went over to one of the few policemen who wasn't on their phone, Officer Monroe, who was at his desk. He was a couple years older than Bucky and was a bit overweight, but he was smart enough to be a valuable member of the team.   
"What's going on?" Bucky asked, curiously.  
"Another fire." Monroe sighed.  
"Seriously? That's like the 3rd one this month. Still no idea who's causing them?" Bucky asked.  
"No witnesses, no evidence. Whoever's doing this, is smart, organised and quick." Monroe answered.   
"Shit..." Bucky muttered, leaning against the desk.   
"Yeah... Thankfully the family got out safe but their home is gone." Monroe nodded.  
"What am I doing today, then?" Bucky asked.  
"I think the captain wants us doing crowd control during the investigation." Monroe answered.  
"Ah, sounds fun." Bucky half laughed, reluctantly.

In the Barnes apartment, Steve finally woke up with a headache in Bucky's bed. As his eyes opened, he immediately realised he wasn't in his own bed and remembered why he was here. He looked up at the wall clock and knew Bucky would be at work. Steve rubbed his eyes as he put on the same clothes he had on yesterday, before groggily walking into the living room. Sitting on the sofa were Bucky and Roy's two younger brothers, Jimmy and Theodore. Jimmy's the third oldest of the siblings, but with a skinnier body, light brown hair and clean shaven. He works as a mailman, which meant on most other mornings, he was out the door at sunrise. But today was his day off. He was wearing a black gown and a pair of white boxer shorts as he sat on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table. Theodore, on the other hand, was eating toast at the dinner table behind the couch. He was 19, skinny, had black, messy hair and had a bit of bum fluff on his chin. He works as a dishwasher at the nearby Diner, a job he quite enjoys. The moment Steve walked into the room, though, they both looked up at him nervously - like he was a glass swan toppling on the edge of a table.   
"Heyyy, Steve. You okay?" Theodore finally spoke up as they watched him drag his feet over.  
"I guess." Steve sighed, going towards the front door.  
"Whoa, where are you going?" Jimmy frowned.  
"Home." Steve mumbled.  
"No, no, no." Jimmy said, jumping to his feet and hurrying over. "You're not going anywhere, alone." He told him, wrapping an arm around Steve's shoulders and guiding him back to the sofa.   
"Jimmy... I'm not in the mood..." Steve sighed.  
"Bucky told me to look after you and that's exactly what I'm gonna do." Jimmy insisted as they both sat down.   
"We're sorry about your loss, Steve." Theodore said, standing up and coming over to the sofa, sitting down on Steve's other side.  
"We're here for you, buddy." Jimmy added.   
"I appreciate it, I do. I just don't know what you can do." Steve sighed.  
"I have an idea." Theodore smiled. "How about we go down to the Diner and have a big, obnoxious-sized milkshake and burger?"   
"I dunno..." Steve said, unsure, nervously looking down at his feet.  
"Come on. We can always come back if it's too much." Jimmy reasoned. Reluctantly, Steve stood up with the two Barnes brothers and let them lead him out the door.

Meanwhile, in the fire station, a fire engine of men had just returned from putting out the latest fire. They all sadly walked through - taking off their suits and walking into the small main office where their captain, Baldwin, was waiting for them. He was a large, white man with blond hair and bulging muscles - with a moustache that seemed to mirror his furrowed brows.  
"The police force is working on it, men." He was telling them as they all sat around a table - still dirty with soot and ash.   
"If only they got off their fat asses as fast as us, maybe we wouldn't be putting out the crimes they're supposed to stop." One of the fellow firemen complained - earning a glare from Roy.  
"They're trying their best. But these fires are apparently coming out of nowhere - nobody's seeing anything or anyone." Roy insisted.  
"Well, with or without their help, we need to get quicker at getting out of there, so I want you boys to practice getting in and out of your uniforms faster. I want you studying the roads so you know the quickest route. Give yourself the best chance." Captain Baldwin told them.  
"Has anything like this happened before?" Roy asked.  
"We've had a few arson attacks, but in my experience, they've all been sloppy and messy - easy for the cops to catch. This... Well, this is damn scary." Captain Baldwin admitted.   
"How do we know it's arson? And not just coincidental?" One of the firemen asked.  
"Because of the speed these houses are going up and how many have been burning down every week. It's always middle class, too - like they're being targeted." Captain Baldwin explained.  
"Middle class?" Roy repeated, surprised.  
"Yeah. So, be careful in your own homes." Baldwin advised them. 

Not far from the Barnes' apartment, the mourning Steve was in a diner with Jimmy and Theodore. It was one of their favourite places to hang out in, which is one of the reasons why Theodore began working there, as a dishwasher in the back. The owner, Walter, was a nice yet strict man. He always let Theodore and his brothers hang out there and had become good friends with the family and Steve. The boys were sitting in one of the booths, Steve being quiet as Jimmy and Theodore chatted away, over the buzz of other patrons having an early lunch at the diner. The Barnes brothers had gotten Steve a milkshake, in hopes of making him feel better, though it didn't really seem to be working as he prodded at it with his straw.   
"I should be planning the funeral." Steve mumbled.  
"Not yet. You deserve a day to grieve." Theodore reasoned.  
"My father would want me to." Steve sighed.   
"Alright boys?" Walter grinned, coming over. He was a bit overweight, had short, messy brown hair, stubble and almost always wore an apron. Today he wore a white one, which had some sort of gravy stain on it, a light blue polo shirt on underneath, then a pair of brown pants.   
"Steve's... Steve's had a rough day. His mom passed away last night." Jimmy said, keeping an eye on Steve to make sure he was okay.  
"I'm sorry." Walter said, his mood dropping. "You want another shake? On the house?"   
"No... No, I think I should be getting home." Steve sighed.  
"Steve..." Jimmy said, concerned.  
"Please. Just leave me be." Steve told them, before sliding out of the booth and miserably leaving towards the exit of the Diner.   
"Poor kid." Walter said.   
"I dunno what to do. Bucky's usually the one to comfort Steve." Jimmy groaned.   
"Sometimes men need their own space." Walter told them. "Give him time."

Steve's face was wet with tears as he came home, to the crappy apartment he and his mother used to share. He came to the door of his apartment and paused. He took a deep, shaky breath as he slotted the key into the lock and turned it. Steve gulped as he finally pushed the door open, with a pitchy creak. He stepped inside into the dark hallway and closed the door behind him, before soon looking into the living room. His eyes scanned the room, from the old sofas to the overflowing bookshelves, to a set of beige, grimy drawers with photo frames of Steve's parents on display, on top. Steve's legs felt shaky as memories flashed in his mind. He remembered the time when his mother taught him how to sew, whilst his father was at work, on the sofa as they gossiped about their neighbours. Steve remembered when he first got into a fight, and his mom helped patch him up, telling him he did the right thing - trying to defend Bucky who got into a street fight. Feeling weak, Steve collapsed into the sofa in the dim light and sobbed into a cushion - wishing more than anything he had family again. 

Bucky was on the scene of the crime - doing crowd control at the burning wreckage that suffered last night. It was a house in the suburbs, roped off with police tape - keeping the surrounding citizens from interfering with the evidence. A couple police cars were parked outside on the road, as Bucky's fellow police officers kept the crowds at bay, but also a talented detective investigated the scene. Bucky had never met Ronald Wood, but he knew how much of a big deal he was - which proved how high this case was. He was a tall man, with a long, tweed coat and glasses. He was clean shaven, had dark hair and looked to be in his mid 40's. Bucky watched him as he worked, wondering if he might one day have his job. Monroe was by the barrier with Bucky as they chatted, waiting for something to do as they made sure people stayed away from the scene. The house had been completely destroyed - the roof had collapsed in on itself and the detective was looking through the rubble of the debris.   
"You got any plans tonight, Barnes?" Monroe asked, clearly quite bored.  
"Not really. My friend lost his mom so I'll be looking after him." Bucky shrugged, hoping Steve was doing okay without him. "You?"   
"I got a date with the wife. She's nagging me to take her someplace nice." Monroe complained. Bucky liked Monroe, up until he talked about women - then he just made Bucky uncomfortable.   
"Is that so bad?" Bucky half laughed.  
"Such a waste of money. She should be making me dinner like a housewife should." Monroe tutted.  
"Do you not think that-" But before Bucky could finish challenging his coworker, there was a bang. Then cries, yells and screams from the crowd erupted. Bucky's eyes shot towards the fire wreckage and saw the police and surrounding people were ducking behind cover.  
"Get down!" Somebody shouted as people began pulling out guns and looking up at the apartment building across the road. The crowd dispersed in a panic, running away as people screamed in terror.   
"He's dead! Wood is dead!" Another person called out. "Neck shot!" At those words, Bucky's eyes darted back over at the apartment building and scanned the windows as he crouched behind a police car. Eventually, he noticed a window was open, but only enough for a rifle to fit through. It was on the fifth floor, at the very end of the building. Bucky wasn't sure what came over him, but a surge of bravery rushed through him. He stood up and ran towards the apartment building.  
"Barnes! Barnes!" Monroe called after him but Bucky soon burst through the front doors of the apartment building. 

The lobby of the apartment building had a few scared and confused residents who all looked over at Bucky with fear. It was a humble apartment building, with dim lights but pretty nice furniture greeting you in the lobby entrance.   
"What's happening?" A middle aged woman asked Bucky.  
"Everybody go to your homes and stay inside." Bucky instructed them as he held his gun and rushed towards the stairs. Skipping a few steps at a time, Bucky rushed up the stairwell, until he was on the fifth floor and poked his head into the hallway, making sure there wasn't an assassin coming his way. Bucky hurried down the corridor to the apartment at the very end when he approached the door, he took a breath. Although he had been a cop for about a year and a half, he had never gotten into a gun fight. The only danger he'd genuinely been in was a knife fight in an alleyway. But here he was, probably going in way over his head. He kicked the door open and threw his gun up, aiming into the apartment. However, nobody was there... Well nobody alive was there. Instead, there was a couple on the sofa, with their throats slit and bleeding onto the polyester. They looked to be in their early 50's, with greying hair. The stench of blood filled Bucky's nose as he walked further into the apartment. He came into the bedroom, to see the window he had spotted, still open. However, there was nobody there. The only evidence that someone had been at the window was the stool next to it.   
"Fuck." Bucky muttered, pissed he missed the killer. He came to the window and looked through it, to see the detective already being covered over by a blanket. "Shit..." Bucky sighed, feeling like this investigation just got a whole lot more complex and deeper than just some random arson. 

Later than afternoon, Bucky had come home. It was a long day of the police investigating the apartment, calling relatives and coroners and explaining everything that happened to the captain. He was told off for going in without being instructed, but not too harshly as if it wasn't for him, they may not have found the site of the shooter as quickly. As Nick walked through the door of his own apartment, he saw Roy was already home as well, along with Jimmy and Theo.  
"Hey guys." Bucky sighed, still feeling the shock of what happened.   
"Hey. You okay?" Roy asked, noticing.  
"Yeah- wait... Where's Steve?" He realised, looking over at Jimmy and Theo, who were on the couch.  
"He um... He went home." Jimmy admitted.  
"What? Guys! I asked you to do one thing!" Bucky groaned, picking his coat back up.  
"He wanted to be alone!" Theo defended.  
"He's too emotional to be left alone. He needs someone there for him." Bucky rolled his eyes before opening the front door and leaving. 

Bucky went straight to Steve's place, knowing the last thing his best friend needed was to be alone. Despite what he had seen today, nothing mattered to him more than his best friend right now. As if the world knew of the somber day, the clouds above went dark and rain soon fell. Bucky finally parked outside of Steve's apartment building and got out, hurrying inside to avoid too much rain. He came to Steve's door and knocked on it, but there was no answer.   
"Steve? Hey, Steve, I know you're in there, open up." Bucky called out. Still no answer. "Alright, I'm coming in." He said before taking out the house key Steve had given him years ago and unlocking the door. Bucky entered the apartment and it was dark inside. He flicked on the lightswitch and peered his head into the living room, but it was empty. Bucky looked through the apartment until he found Steve in his mother's bedroom, sat in bed and curled up in a ball. He was awake, but he didn't react when Bucky came inside.  
"I said you could stay at my place." Bucky began, walking over.  
"Too many people..." Steve croaked. It was then, Bucky noticed that Steve was holding a bottle of beer, tightly in his hand.   
"Steve. You know that stuff makes you feel ill." Bucky sighed.  
"At least it makes me feel something." Steve said quietly.  
"Okay. May I join you?" Bucky asked, standing beside the double bed, on the empty side. Steve weakly nodded his head. So, Bucky took off his coat once again and placed it on a chair, before laying next to Steve. He laid on his back and for a moment, they both breathed in the tense silence. "When my Dad died, and I was orphaned, I had to be the man of the house. I had to look after my brothers and care for them and... I thought I'd never have time to... Express myself. But you proved me wrong. You helped me. You were there to help look after my siblings, you even made me laugh when I thought it was impossible." Bucky was saying. "Even with all those brothers, it's easy to feel alone. But you... You made me feel seen and heard and understood." He went on, looking over at Steve, who was still turned away from him. "So... If you think I won't do the same for you, you're very, very wrong." Bucky told him.   
"I don't know what to do." Steve whispered.  
"You don't have to. Not yet." Bucky assured him, placing a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder. And just like that, Steve rolled over and hugged Bucky - cuddling into him. Had he not been mourning, or in private, Bucky would've probably pushed him off, However, knowing there was no one to see them, or accuse them of anything, Bucky wrapped an arm around his best friend and took the bottle of beer from his hand, taking a sip before placing it on the bedside table.  
"I... I've lost everyone. I've lost my family, Bucky." Steve whispered, shakily.   
"No, you haven't. It's about time you realise, you're not just a Rogers. You're a Barnes, too." Bucky told him.   
"T-Thank you..." Steve whispered, sobbing into Bucky's chest. They both laid there until they fell asleep, that night - strengthening an already unbreakable bond.

A week and a half had passed since Steve's mother had died.It was a sunny, crisp morning, as Steve, Bucky, Roy, Jimmy and Theo stood outside the church, each wearing dark suits as they watched the coffin that held Steve's mother get lowered into the ground. As the priest said his words, Steve watched through watery eyes as he said goodbye to his beloved mom. Bucky had a hand on Steve's shoulder, as a sign of assurance, as the Barnes all watched the sad display of loss. Steve had accepted Bucky's help and was currently living with the Barnes family, although he still insisted it was only temporary. This wasn't the only funeral Bucky was going to either, this week. He'd soon be going to the funeral of Ronald Wood - a service that all the cops who had witnessed the crime were going to - along with the captain. Steve held back the tears, not wanting to show any sign of vulnerabilities to the other friends of the family who were at the service too, though he barely knew them. They all held roses in their hands and when the coffin was still, in the ground, all the mourners one by one dropped a rose onto the varnished wood. Roy, Jimmy, Theo and Bucky all let their flowers roll off their fingers and into the grave and soon, it was Steve's turn. As he looked down onto the casket that held his dead mother, he found it hard to lose his grip of the rose - as if dropping it would mean he's letting go of his mother for good.   
"Steve?" Bucky whispered behind him. Steve shakily looked up at him - into Bucky's warm, brown eyes. When Steve wasn't grieving, he was thinking about Bucky and the night they shared together. The words he had said. The care he had given him. Steve couldn't help but fall for his friend even further and although it was dangerous, he couldn't help but enjoy how Bucky made him feel. "You can do this." Bucky said, with a sad smile that made Steve's heart less painful. And just like that, he was able to let the scarlet rose fall into the grave. Perhaps Bucky was right. He was a Barnes now.


End file.
